A/N: This is, quite frankly, nothing more than me wanting to practice writing for the Metalocalypse characters. And, at the moment, Murderface is who I need the most practice with. So I had my friend give me a bunch of words and I sat down and wrote one paragraph per word. And, uh, this is the result of it.
Murderface has begged his Grandmother for answers more times then he can count. Asked her what his parents looked like. What his mother was like. Which one he took after the most and whether or not that was a good thing. But she's a stubborn woman and, time and time again, she gives him the same answer. I've forgotten, she'll tell him, and you should too. But he can't forget them because, really, he doesn't know enough of them to not remember.
The only pet that Murderface has ever owned is a bird. Small and yellow, with no real breed and no real name. He simply calls it Bird. Despite this, Murderface does care for the small creature. It is the only bit of color in the drab and broken down apartment. Bird is the only thing there when he comes home each day, still without a band, and the only creature that will listen to him complain. He comes home one day, the same day that he finally lands a place in a new band called Dethklok, and there is no bird-song to greet him. Bird is given to a stray cat that lives behind the apartment building. Murderface tells himself that he didn't really care about the animal anyway.
It's dark and it's cold. The floor is hard and the walls are all made up of metal bars. It really should be larger for someone his size, but Murderface doubts that whoever bought the cage cares about that. They might have even been going for someone smaller. Now that he thinks about it, Toki had been playing awfully close to him at the concert. They had probably been trying to grab him but, in the ensueing chaos that consisted of millions of fans screaming and the Klockateers running on stage with guns and swords waving, they had ended up with him instead. That thought makes him angry - and the anger stays, over powering any fear or misery he might have felt. Just like it always does.
Murderface is not one to say that he's afraid of something. This is partially because that is just not something he could ever bring himself to say out loud and partially because there are few things that scare the bassist. The dark is not one of those things. It has never been one of those things. It most likely never will be. Still, when the power goes out at Mord House and a timid knock sounds on his door, Murderface rolls out of his warm bed and lets Toki into his room. It isn't brutal to be afraid of the dark but the younger boys fear of the shadows night brings is one thing that Murderface will never mock him for.
Romeo And Juliet was one of the many books that Murderface had been forced to read during his stay in school. It also happens to be the book that he hates the most. The entire idea behind it sickens him. To fall in love in just a few days is stupid. To kill yourself over someone you just met even more so. Murderface will tell anyone he can those reasons, given he has the chance. Whether or not he'll tell them the third reason, the one that he refuses to admit even to himself, is a different story all together.
It's cold in the Mord House. Inexplicably and unexplainably cold. Offdensen is trying to figure out why, because the air isn't on and it's almost June outside, but in the meantime the band is just supposed to tough it out and find their own ways to keep warm. Nathan sulks in his bedroom, Pickles hogs most of the blankets in the house, Toki makes hot chocolate, Skwisgaar pulls on a jacket and says the temperature doesn't bother him. And Murderface? Murderface takes up most of Nathan's bed and claims he's only in there because Pickles stole all of his blankets.
People say that those you meet during childhood shape your existance once you grow up. They help mold your very exstance. Murderface thinks back to his childhood when this is said. He remembers the teachers that didn't care and the family that he didn't have. He remembers bullies and he remembers having to fight for everything that he had; whether it was worth having or not. Murderface can't help but to agree with that saying.
It's wrong. Wrong and gross on so many levels. Murderface knows this. The rest of Dethklok know this. They have all made jokes and uttered slurs on the matter - and that might be the reason why Murderface denies it so frequently, because he believes that he knows the bands view on the matter. The simple truth of the matter, though, is that William Murderface really is gay. And, one of these days, he's going to muster up the courage to admit it.
It isn't something that Murderface knows much about. Being gentle, that is. His Grandmother certaintly wasn't gentle when he lived with her. His classmates and teachers weren't either. And himself? Well, Murderface isn't about to kid anyone. He knows that there is nothing about him that's gentle. Most of the time, he doesn't care. But there are some days, few and far between, where he wonders if things would be different were he to act just a little less like himself.
Women don't flock to Murderface like they do the others. That's just fact. Everyone in the band knows and accepts that. Even Murderface himself. And, if he thinks about it for too long, then it really does bum him out. There is little that makes it better - because he knows that the women only run from him for his looks, that if they stopped comparing him to people like Nathan and Skwisgaar then things would be different. Maybe then he wouldn't always be viewed as a last resort.